


Invincible

by Voido



Series: Perfect Circles [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Cuddles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, M/M, Post-Canon, They love each other, i love them, let ryuji say fuck, they're sweet and precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 07:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14397087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: With Akira gone and his movement being limited to the shameful reality of walking on crutches, Ryuji hardly believes there's any good reason to go on.Except Akira's still there, and he'll always be.





	Invincible

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I SWEAR I'M DONE WITH THIS SERIES NOW~~  
>  This is _basically_ a small continuation (and conclusion, I suppose?) to both _Next to me_ and _Infrangible_ , but it works on its own, too.  
> I just want my boys to cuddle, kiss and love each other, ok. ;_:

There was a sick, unsatisfying irony to how much almost everything in Ryuji's life had changed in these past months, but the shift from summer vacation being the best thing ever to being the worst…he wasn't sure if he could bear it.

The last two weeks of school had been going rather okay – well, disregarding the fact that he'd been going there on crutches, feeling even more humiliated by every look he'd been given than before; if that was even possible. But really, he'd been doing almost fine, ignoring the stupid looks, the stupid comments and all the harassment. Whenever someone _did_ try to push him far enough to get him in trouble, for example during lunch, Ann would get to her feet, give them a death-glare and shoo them away with the help of her incredible squad of new fangirls; Ryuji really wasn't sure if he envied or pitied her for them, but at these times, he appreciated them.

Yet while that had helped him through at least school pretty well, it didn't change a thing about the loneliness creeping up in him at home, when he had neither a good reason nor even a real  _way_ of leaving the apartment. The elevator was broken, so anything like a  _short trip to the store_ was entirely out of the question, and trips that took him anywhere other than school made him feel uncomfortable, especially on his own; walking, running had been the only thing he'd seen himself able to do alone, as something he didn't need help with, and now he'd have to be careful about everything – make sure not to put too much pressure on his good leg, but also not his wrists, take regular breaks, hope someone would offer him their seat on the train…it was a pain, and he hated it.

“Ryuji, dear.”

He hadn't heard the door open.

“I know you're not feeling well, but I need to leave for work soon, and you should at least eat something.”

Footsteps coming closer, but he pretended to be asleep – which was stupid, because this was his  _mother_ ; there was no way in hell he'd be able to trick her with something so cheap. But she understood, let him act the way he did and just sighed, placing something on the nightstand with a soft  _thonk_ sound before leaving the room. At some point, she'd probably make a remark about the way it currently looked, but so far, she'd had mercy. Usually, Ryuji preferred his room as tidily as possible; it gave him a feeling of security and peace, somehow. Maybe the fact that he didn't feel any of that peace lately was why  he'd let it come to how it was right now – both manga and clothes spread everywhere, his school bag tossed somewhere between all of it, books and notes sprawled and overall way too chaotic to be happy in.

It really wasn't his fault, though. At least that was what he tried to make himself believe. Everything was so much easier as long as he decided to dwell in all the bad habits he'd sworn never to fall back into. He remembered telling Akira he'd stand up for himself, figure out things on his own and stop blaming others.

Ryuji snorted loudly.

“Akira…”

His voice was disgustingly dry, but he doubted the name would've sounded any better off his chapped lips if it weren't. He hated himself for how mad it made him to just think about his best friend – especially when he couldn't stop himself from chuckling dryly at that thought.

None of this, nothing that was happening to Ryuji right now, was in any kind of way Akira's fault. It wasn't his fault that he'd had to leave Tokyo, or that he didn't have the time to talk to Ryuji 24/7, especially during classes. There was no doubt he was already making more time than he should, and Ryuji could only imagine the stupid comments Morgana most likely made about it.

He picked up his phone, taking a sneak peek at the food – it was soup, nothing too exciting, but probably still good. He still wished it weren't there, begged his mom would just let him rot in this goddamn room like he deserved to. She'd have so many problems less if he weren't around anymore, it wasn't even funny.

There was a new message from Ann, asking him if he was doing alright, but he didn't feel like answering. His last three texts to Akira were still unread, and no matter how childish it was, Ryuji couldn't stop himself from being disappointed about it. It was  _summer vacation_ and he'd sent those  _yesterday_ . If Akira w ere on some super-special date  with a cute girl , it would be fine –  except i t really wouldn't, Ryuji admitted to himself when the thought stung in his heart like a rusty knife – but he would  _definitely_ have mentioned that; heck, they usually shared the simplest shit like starting a new amazing manga chapter, a date should be a  _given._

But still, nothing.  The fact that they weren't read  was both encouraging and frustrating.  There could be a dozen explanations for it – Akira had fallen asleep  early and still wasn't up ,  he'd  misplaced his phone, forgotten to charge it or was binging a series  for an unhealthy amount of time , but Ryuji wouldn't be his regular self-destructive self if he didn't spend his time finding at least one potential reason that led to him being the one to blame.

_There's a huge chance he's mad, ain't there? Shit. Not even surprisin'._

Normally, he'd get up and run to get it off of his mind, but obviously that wasn't an option. It was pathetic how little other means he had of brightening his own mood, and how little he appreciated the ones he had. Ann had asked him out to do stuff three times this week, which he hadn't found himself able to accept. Haru had tried, too, offering him to tend her garden together, which was funny because Ryuji knew he wasn't good at it – he'd probably ruin it instead of being helpful. Futaba had offered getting him some unreleased games illegally, but not even that managed to cheer him up, because lately, nothing did.

Akira had been the same as always – supportive, interested, but because of how horrible the last days had been, Ryuji knew he'd been unable to return the positivity as well as he'd managed to in the last months. The thing he didn't know was if Akira was aware of this not being his fault – he hadn't seen the message where it was clarified, after all, and at this point, it didn't seem like he _would_ see it soon. And that, funnily enough, wasn't even the worst of it.

“ _You're seriously keeping this from him? Ryuji!”_

He could hear Ann's voice scold him as if she were right there, as clearly as it had been weeks prior. But she didn't understand, and honestly, he didn't really want her to. After all, he was the only one who truly knew how much Akira blamed himself whenever something bad happened to any of them. And, really, what should Ryuji have said to him?

“ _Hey, dude. Heads up, I'm walkin' on crutches now”_?

There was no way he'd put that pressure on his best friend, simply because right now, it wouldn't change a thing. Akira had so many things to worry about, Ryuji's leg shouldn't be another one of them.

He had a hard time not sighing loudly when the door opened again. As much as he loved his mother, he didn't want this attention, didn't want to be a bother, didn't want her to firmly walk over again, sit down on the bed and stroke his hair, thin fingers shaking slightly, nails just barely scratching the skin on his head-

Wait.

This wasn't the way she would normally do it – it was cherishing, but differently so. There wasn't this kind of motherly feeling to it, no patting, no silent, desperate sighing. And this definitely wasn't her usual smell – peppermint and cinnamon. Instead, what reached his nose was-

_No._

It was like something hit him in the face, a chair or a brick maybe, and his heart sunk through the floor faster than he could think. His body tensed up, his breath went uneven, sweat formed on his forehead. Now that he took a moment to think about it, no matter how unrealistic, how impossible it was, he remembered the smell as if it had never left, as if he'd always had it right next to himself, right where it  _goddamn belonged._

“Why didn't you tell me?”

The voice was so close, composed and quiet, lips brushing his ear slightly. It wasn't an accusation, it wasn't even disappointment, just genuine curiosity, maybe mixed with worry. The hand in his hair came to a halt, and another reached for his hand, intertwining the fingers, shooting a splash of warmth right through him. If he weren't so sure of the numb feeling in his leg, or the tears streaming down his face, or the welcoming smell of coffee engulfing him, he'd bet a fortune on this being a dream.

“I'm sorry,” was all he could manage to press out, forcing himself not to sob, pulling his legs up and curling up like a baby, burying his face in the pillow as if that would cause the world to stop. It didn't. He still felt the warm pressure on his head, the tingling in his fingers, the body leaning against his back.

“I'm so sorry for being a failure.”

He was too tired to fight against being turned around to lie on his bed, too tired to try and look away from the piercing gray eyes staring right at his soul, too tired to make up a good explanation for what was going on and why. In the past few months, he'd gotten too tired to properly live, and too numb to even just care about that very fact.

And yet here he was, trying to understand all the undeserved affection he found in those eyes, the support and the unspoken will to help him and to be there. As dense as he could be at times, he felt the commitment like the assuring sting of a blood oath.

“Please, Ryuji.”

Hearing Akira's voice was like a blessing, like a higher entity having mercy for Ryuji, like all the will to live that had been leaking out of him ever since April finally being refilled. Suddenly, he could breathe, he could see and he could  _live._

“Please don't ever apologize again.”

He didn't know what to do when lips caressed his cheeks, nose poking him slightly, hands gently stroking his head, his face, his sides and down to his hips. Part of him wanted to scream at the touch on his thigh and on his scar, and at the same time, he felt himself melting in Akira's hands, in the genuine, unbelievably intimate affection, in how cherished it managed to make him feel within seconds.

It was so overwhelming that he almost apologized again for how much he craved it, for how he just stayed there unmoving and let Akira treat him like a treasure, like his most precious belonging. If he could, Ryuji would keep this moment forever, relive the feeling of being worshiped for the rest of his measly life and let himself believe that he could possible mean as much to Akira as Akira meant to him.

“How could I possibly deserve you…,” he mumbled instead, hardly even noticing his own words when his eyes fell heavy, his mind too focused on the warm breath on his neck, on the warm feeling of short but diligent kisses on his skin, down to his collarbone and back up to his chin.

“Do you mean other than saving my life multiple times?”

_But it ain't like that_ , he wanted to say.  _There was no other choice_ , his mind screamed.  _I couldn't have let you die to Kamoshida, let alone to a goddamn sinkin' ship_ , he rationalized, opening his eyes just slightly when Akira let go of his head and settled down between his legs instead, giving him a questioning look before leaning down  towards his legs.

“Or how you've been there since the very beginning?”

Steady fingers pushed up the fabric of the shorts just enough to reveal the scarry skin, enough of a motion to let Ryuji shiver, but he was too lost in the memory of meeting Akira back then, of how he had just let him vent about Kamoshida without even as much as a judging look, how they had looked out for each other, how Ryuji had immediately known that his life was suddenly changing for the better-

He couldn't hold back a startled, shaky moan when lips touched his leg, had to fight the urge of pulling away just as much as the wish to bury his hands in Akira's hair and press him closer. Realizing that he was turning red, Ryuji tried to turn his head, but it really didn't change much, for he was aware of Akira's eyes still focusing on him. A hand on his hip kept him in his position, and instead of trying to fight, he found himself putting his own on top and accepting that this was truly happening.

However, it didn't change anything about his heart skipping a beat when-

“But, you know, maybe it's also just because I love you.”

He was dying.

Straightforward and undeniably dying to feelings he couldn't deal with, an honesty too good to be real, words too confusing to reach his brain. But it didn't matter, for his answer came instinctively.

“Fuck, I…I love you, too, goddamn it.”

He felt Akira's fingers twitch on his hip, a slightly surprised yet content hum coming from him  before he reached up for a bone-crushing, soul-healing hug probably neither of them hadn't known they could've missed so much.

“I was so goddamn worried when ya didn't read my shit. I know I've been difficult lately.”

“Ann texted me about your condition the literal second classes ended.”

Ryuji groaned, but figured it made sense, for it was just like Ann to  _force_ him to face his problems somehow. At some point, she'd probably threatened him that she'd do it, and he'd forgotten or ignored it and gotten mad – right now, he realized he needed to thank her. And yet…

“How's that related, though?”

“Well, she was pretty direct about it, and I couldn't believe I'd missed all the indicators…uh…”

Was that  _insecurity_ in  _Akira's_ voice? This would always get the best out of Ryuji, whenever it happened, for it was so unbelievably rare and out of character.

“Maybe I…smashed my phone right into the next wall.”

And he couldn't help but chuckle at it, no matter how much his mind wanted to make him believe it was his fault and that he should come up for Akira's new phone he was undoubtedly going to get one of these days.

“Shit, sorry-”

“No apologies, Ryuji.”

“But-”

He shut up when Akira lifted his head, eyebrow raised judgmentally, and instead scratched the back of his head in a weird attempt to let the situation go. It was alright, though, for he couldn't imagine a thing less awkward than just looking at Akira, losing himself in those beautiful eyes looking right through his and into his soul.

“I wanna tell ya how much I missed you, but I ain't good with words.”

“Mh…how about this, then?”

Before he could ask, he felt a hand lift up his chin just a tad, warm lips on his own, his eyes twitching in disbelief before he closed them with a soft hum and put both arms on Akira's back to pull him closer. If there was but a single perfect thing in the whole world, Ryuji was sure it was the feeling of their touch, the soft breaths between each peck, the sound of Akira panting, the bliss of him murmuring  _I love you, I love you so much_ again and again  and  _again_ .

They stayed cuddled up for half an eternity even after losing themselves in a sloppy hug, their heartbeats and breaths adjusting to each other's and hands wandering over skin just barely, enough to ensure neither of them was imagining this, that this was true and it would always be.  With Akira by his side, even if it was temporarily for now, Ryuji felt like he could still climb the highest mountains, run the furthest distances, overcome any obstacle and laugh in the face of every bad thing trying to put him down.

“I love you so, so much.”

As long as Akira was here…

“You're everythin' to me, dude.”

…he could go on.


End file.
